


Hidden Depth

by HarcourtHolmesII



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 5+1 Things, A Punch To The Feels Was Attempted, Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Child Abandonment, Creativitwins, Existential Angst, Feels, Gen, If You're Sensitive Be Mindful, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Nudity, Pairings If You Squint, Please don't copy to another site, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, self-questioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25065058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarcourtHolmesII/pseuds/HarcourtHolmesII
Summary: The five times Remus Sanders proved he was more than just Intrusive Thoughts, and the one time it was acknowledged.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 90





	Hidden Depth

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I know it has been a while, but I recently discovered 'Sanders Sides' (I know it has been around for ages but it is new to me), and fell in love. Much more specifically, Remus 'the Duke' Sanders (also known as 'Dark Creativity') stole my heart the second he knocked Roman out with a morningstar to the head. I have dreamed of doing that many times to many people, but still... Ignoring my macabre thoughts, I love this character and I wanted to show him some appreciation (in the form of angst).
> 
> Cruel to be Kind.
> 
> Also, I have recently made a Tumblr page now. (Yay!) Feel free to come and visit and check out some stories and all the fanart I will be attempting to post (and no, I do not have a schedule, sadly). Here it is:
> 
> [harcourtholmesii.](https://harcourtholmesii.tumblr.com/)

#1 (UNDER PRESSURE)

Pressure.

That was the first thing to register through Virgil’s mind; a solid weight resting upon his chest, crushing his lungs. Every exhale threatened the succeeding inhale; the breathing sounded loud through his ears like a haunting wind tunnel.

Opening his eyes, Virgil was greeted with a great abyss; he felt weightless, unable to discern which way was up. All around him the universe was a black pit; no light, colour or sound. His clothes splayed out all around him as if he was in a vast ocean, but he felt his skin taut and dry. He couldn’t see anything to determine his location. Or anyone to cry out to. It didn’t stop him from trying.

“…”

Opening his lips, like water, the inky world around him flooded into his mouth and throat; it was tangible, slimy and cold. He mutely coughed it down, clamping his pale lips shut around the intrusive substance. His teeth severed a connection, and as quickly as he started to drown he had swallowed down the offending mass. It clung along his raw throat, until it fell heavily into his stomach. Similar to his chest, it felt like a ton had been rested in his gut. It made him nauseous; he could almost feel his skin change to an icky green. He didn’t dare open his mouth again.

His movements were slow, lazy and exhausting with each inch he turned and twisted. He could barely turn his head without feeling hundreds of sticky hands forcing him to remain in place. The pressure was too much. It hurt. The thing in his gut caused his whole body to churn in discomfort, his eyes beginning to brim with tears.

Why was he here?

What had happened?

“Virge.”

A voice, clear as day, sounded somewhere in his surroundings. He couldn’t move his body around to see whoever it was, but he felt something wrap around his fingers and a gentle tug pulled him down and backwards.

The figure rounded him, almost cautiously, until they stood before him. It was a figure familiar to him. He knew them from somewhere. But for the life of him, he couldn’t place it. Hell, he couldn’t place how this person seemed to know him.

“Hey, Emo. Good to see you’re back in the land of the living. Well… Almost.”

The voice was a higher pitch than he was expecting, and whilst this figure was familiar, something about the man before him was off-putting. _Really_ off-putting.

“Guess you can’t talk yet. No matter! Makes my job easier. I don’t have to listen to every single question you probably have in that itty-bitty brain of yours!” He emphasised his point with a painful poke to Virgil’s forehead. The point of pressure was enough to start Virgil drifting again, but that hand in his prevented him from drifting too far.

My God, those eyes…

They were crazed. Grey eyes with flecks of emerald through them. If it had been anyone else staring him down, he would arguably think that gaze was beautiful. Instead, the dark, sunken eyes and the twinkle of manic glee had him thinking perhaps this place, as horrid as it was, may be safer than the man before him.

“Welcome, my dear Virgil…” He spun him around, pulling him tight, shoulder-to-shoulder, one hand out in presentation, “… to the Subconscious!” The man’s voice echoed in the deep, spreading out and around them forever and onwards in all dimensions. “Not many peeps come here, you know.”

He turned Virgil around, holding him out at arm’s length, like the weightless being he was. The man bore a wide grin on his face; a sinister appearance with canines just a couple millimetres too long and lips pulled back just a little too far.

“And for good reason! Sides can’t survive out here, after all. Well, not for long, anyway.” He leaned forward, Virgil attempting to move himself away from this claustrophobic space between them. “But you didn’t come here, did you? Not intentionally. Or… yes intentionally. No… Yes! No. I don’t really know what you would count it as, but you sure as Hell didn’t walk here!” He let Virgil’s shoulders go, leaning down and out of sight of Virgil’s gaze.

Not seeing this lunatic was worse; knowing he was still there but doing something out of sight was beginning to cause Virgil’s breaths to pick up from stress. Where was he?! What was he doing?! He felt hands on his left leg, trying to pull away from the unwanted touch. What he felt next caught him by surprise. A solid surface beneath his sneaker. Then those hands reached up to his right leg and pulled it down to mirror the left.

Once more, the man reappeared in sight, pulling Virgil’s jacket down forcefully and, just like magic, Virgil could feel his weight on his feet. He stumbled, falling into the man… Remus’ arms. How did he know his name? What about him did Virgil know? Surely they weren’t friends.

“Ah! Much better!” Remus flicked the few floating locks from Virgil’s violet fringe back down and just over his eyes. He snickered. “Can you walk, little storm cloud?” He asked, helping Virgil to stand properly on his own two feet.

Everything seemed as if in slow motion. Virgil raised one leg, feeling as if he was weighed down by iron shoes, and took a single step. He was like an infant. Almost as quickly as he had taken that first step, he was falling back into Remus’ embrace. Laughter trickled its way from the man’s mouth, but Virgil was a little distracted. There was no laughter from within Remus’ chest. There was no deep seated laughter. There was something missing beyond that though. It was… strange. Like the man himself.

“I’ll give you a wittle hand den, storm cloud.” He teased, wrapping one arm around over his broad shoulders and beginning the walk along what was an invisible platform. Virgil’s eyes darted downwards, watching how the ‘floor’ clung tightly to the bottom of his sneakers and Remus’ boots, sticking tight like mud.

“Now then… I know how much you hate us, Virge, but maybe don’t scare Dee-Dee like that again, yeah?” Dee-Dee? Who was that supposed to be? “He does actually worry, you know. He’s such a sap. It’s like watching the Titanic sink. Why cry for the lives lost and not celebrate all the shark food and the ruins at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean?!” He laughed, harsh and blaringly loud in Virgil’s ear. He took a sharp breath in. “Wait! That was a bad metaphor…”

Virgil ignored the ramblings from Remus, focussing instead on what he had done to cause this ‘Dee-Dee’ to worry. Flashes, bright and sudden blinded him as he caught sight of a white porcelain tub and tile, stained a brilliant, royal red. He felt Remus round on him suddenly, taking a hold of either side of Virgil’s head. The thoughts of a blade slipping through his skin like it was warm butter sunk away and out of his grasp.

Opening his eyes, there was a dazed look in Remus’ eyes, before the taller man spoke. It was unlike his ramblings and much more like his first word to Virgil. Softer. Cautious.

“Virgil… No matter what anyone says, you cannot do that to yourself. _Again_.”

“B-But…” His own voice was a croak; exhausted and dry. “I… I hurt-”

“Who? Thomas? Shit happens, storm cloud. But you are a necessity. Maybe… One day, Thomas will see that. Otherwise, you have me. And Dee-Dee.” He returned to his original place, supporting Virgil’s unsteady movements. “I might be an asshole, but we… Care.” He seemed almost disgusted saying it.

“No. You… You don’t care… ‘bout me…”

“I’m not Dee-Dee. I don’t lie.”

Who knows how long it took, but soon, a tiny white speck on the ‘horizon’, grew in size, almost the shape of a door frame. White light poured inside, blindingly bright. By this point, Virgil could feel Remus sinking under his weight. He was tired, it seemed. Before crossing the threshold, once more, Remus turned Virgil around so he could look him in the eye. That malicious glint was still there.

“You won’t remember much of this place. Of what I have said. And, honestly, I’m too lazy to tell you when we’re back home, so…” He raised one hand up to Virgil’s brow, resting a warm palm there. A heat bloomed outwards from the touch, spreading through Virgil’s skull and following his spine, blossoming into his muscles and the rest of his body.

Images flashed through his head, too fast for him to comprehend. But whatever they were, Virgil felt sick. Disgusted. He felt molested, assaulted and terrified of whatever had just transpired. He pulled back in shock, adrenaline shooting through him as he tumbled out and through the white rectangle.

He landed on his ass in a corridor, not nearly as blinding as the light had seemed. Instead, it was a dim glow, with low hanging bulbs, sparking with electricity. Five doors lined the corridor behind him, and before the dark, rotting wood door closed, he caught sight of where he had come from. An all-consuming abyss; a cosmos as dark as ink with not a hint of life within. The giant, black maw roared, the door slamming shut of its own volition, leaving Virgil there, trembling.

“Virgil!” A voice, one normally filled with such dignity and a tone of superiority echoed from further down the hall. Looking behind him, all Virgil could catch was a flash of bright yellow and a black suit, as a figure came up to kneel behind him. The reptilian half of his face was emotionless as ever, but his human eye was wide with concern and a raw horror at seeing Virgil appear.

“D-Deceit?”

“ _No_! I-I mean… yes! It’s me.” He helped Virgil to stand, immediately latching on with a vice-like grip to Virgil’s left wrist. He roughly pulled the sleeve up to the crook of the elbow, those shoulders sinking in relief as a breath escaped him. As quickly as he had pulled up the sleeve, he had wrapped his hands around Virgil’s head, pulling him tight to his chest.

A heartbeat, soothing and constant caught his attention. He burrowed his head into Deceit’s chest, unashamed as he felt tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. Deceit led him down the corridor and towards the bathroom that they all shared. Once inside, he settled Virgil into the corner, before pouring a glass of water and wetting a hand towel. He offered both to Virgil who accepted them quietly. He sipped at the glass whilst Deceit began gently dabbing at his sweating skin.

“What happened?”

Deceit stiffened from his crouched position, before offering him an uncomfortable smile. “Please, Virgil _don’t_ \- Clean yourself up. Take your time. I’ll go and _not_ \- I’ll get you something to eat. I won’t be long. We can talk once you’ve eaten.” With a flourish of his cape, Deceit had disappeared from the bathroom.

Virgil picked himself up from the floor, contemplating. Why? What had he done to earn such worry from Deceit of all people? Why did he cause him to worry? Without thinking, his hands brushed over the vanity drawers, opening them almost without realising. What was he searching for?

He finally found it. There was a sting in his fore and middle fingertips. He wrapped his hand around a wooden handle, pulling out the Duke’s straight razor. He flicked it open, noting with an almost sick fascination how it was one of the few items the Duke kept in pristine condition. There was a desperate need to sate something deep within him.

The sleeve was once again moved up to the crook of his elbow.

He rested the fine edge against the skin of his forearm.

He stopped.

His fingers leaked a few drops of royal red onto his paper skin, Virgil’s head tilting in confusion. And then he gasped. Images ran through his head like a blur, the blade slipping from his fingers.

The room’s stunning white was painted over with buckets of blood. On the floor beneath him there was the obstruction of heavy legs and feet. Virgil turned, almost throwing up at the sight. He let out a cry.

Deceit slammed the door open suddenly, looking down at Virgil as he sat there hugging his knees tight to his body. He was sobbing, muting the loudest cries in the torn jeans. On the floor of the sparkling white bathroom was the straight razor.

No blood.

Deceit sat beside Virgil, taking him into his arms, as those brown eyes looked up at him in horror. “I… I was…”

“Yes.”  
  


“I did it.”

“You did.”

“How am I…?”

“How are you what?”

“A-Alive…?”

“I…”

Silence passed between them.

“I don’t know.”

~X~

#2 (LEGACIES)

How vast was the universe? Was there sentient life apart from humans? An infinitesimal chance that you would exist, and yet you were here. Why? Why you? What would you provide that the world had not seen a hundred times before? What hadn’t the world seen a thousand times before? A million times before?

Thoughts cascaded in a blinding rush through Logan’s pounding skull; the Side in question having to remove his glasses, pinching the corners of his eyes to clear his head of the imagery. The flashes of colour and questions playing on loop like a broken record; they had been running marathons through his head all night. Whilst Thomas slept, the brain was supposed to be quiet so that it might allow for Roman to work his figurative ‘magic’.

Logan’s own room proved to be less of a sanctuary from his thoughts, his bedroom walls covered from top to bottom in mind maps, pie charts and graphs. All his work to determine how best for Thomas to live his life, but even now, he had no clue. A healthy life was optimal, but just as Roman had once questioned, ‘what comes after?’ What was Thomas to do once he had the time or made the sacrifices?

The common room provided a quiet place for him to sit, removed from his thoughts on paper, and with everyone else fast asleep, he had the space he needed. He had to keep his mind in the game. Keep his thoughts straight (to an extent) and just calm down.

How his mind had turned to all of these questions so quickly, he had no idea. Perhaps it had been Virgil’s earlier outburst, or the movie selected by the others to watch that evening. He hated that question. ‘What are we here for?’ He had heard it too many times and still he did not have the answer. Sure, Thomas was not Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking, but Logan’s whole existence was to answer Thomas’ questions and provide him with every piece of knowledge that would help him with his way in life. But even now, even though Logan’s own existence as a figment of Thomas’ psyche was certain, the living, breathing human that was his host still had no answer to that question. No one did.

He leaned forward in his seat on the couch, running his hands through his hair, pushing the locks away from his pale, exhausted face. He was being driven up the metaphorical wall! The stress was getting to him. It shouldn’t! He knew how to avoid it and all the steps you could take to relieve it. His dark blue eyes peered down at the blurred carpet, attempting to piece together a picture from the blurred particles. He could almost make out a few crumbs on the floor, replacing his glasses and swiping them up with a huff. Roman and Patton always left a mess after eating in the lounge, it was a wonder they didn’t have any imaginary ants running around.

That was it.

The answer.

“Insignificant.”

“What was that?”

Logan nearly leapt three feet in the air, hopping off the couch at the muted but still recognisable voice of the Duke. He peered around, expecting to see the second half of creativity peeking his dark eyes over the end of the lounge, or sitting on the bench in the kitchen. Instead, thankfully, the Duke was not present in the kitchen or behind the lounge. Stepping around the couch and peering up the stairs, Logan failed to see him sitting on the top stair or underneath the dining room table.

“Remus?”

“You said ‘insignificant’. Something got you down, dork?”

Still, there was nothing. Where could he be? His voice was still muffled ever so slightly, but was otherwise as loud as ever. Logan was starting to feel just a little uncomfortable now.

“Where are you?”

A shift in the lounge cushions, the one at the farthest end, just beside where Logan had been sitting, was pushed out of place, revealing the Duke in all his glory. Au naturale. A shiver ran its way up Logan’s spine as Remus chuckled.

“How long have you been there?”

“Eh, not long. Was hoping to scare Ro-Bro at breakfast, but I guess I’m a little early.”

“It is 2:36 in the morning. Roman does not normally get up until about 8:00 am.”

“So?”

Logan rolled his eyes, taking his seat at the opposite end of the couch.

“So, you are about five hours and twenty-four minutes early.”

“And I am dedicated to my role!” Remus seemed so offended (well, as offended as he could be), beginning to manoeuvre his way out from under the cushions, revealing more of his pale torso and body. It was only now that Logan hurriedly averted his eyes, cracking his jaw to distract himself.

“Must you be naked?”

“Well, if I want to scar Princey, I need to take it up a notch from just bludgeoning him.”

“We’re figments of Thomas’ psyche. We can’t get scarred.”

“Ah! Not physically!” The duke practically purred, pulling himself free at last and replacing the pillows. He turned around and took a seat, one leg cocked up so he rested casually, Logan trying not to grimace. “But mental scars can last forever!”

“T-True.”

“So? What were you saying about being ‘insignificant’? It seemed like you hit a breakthrough. What’s going on in that itty-bitty brain of yours?” He cooed. The Duke just _cooed_ at him like Patton when Roman first gifted him an imaginary puppy.

“Well, I was just thinking about how insignificant the human race- Thomas’ life is. I mean… We’re like ants.”

“In a matriarchal dictatorship, communicating through smell and touch whilst being crushed under the boot of the less than one percent?”

Logan cocked his head over to the Duke, unfazed by the other’s lack of clothing, but still stunned by the other’s apparent comment. The absurdity of its comparison or the surprise Logan felt at the other’s knowledge; he didn’t know what had left him so speechless. Probably both. When Remus grinned, his expression dividing his face near in half, Logan felt heat beginning to enter his cheeks.

“N-No. Not quite what I meant- How do you-?”

“I know things, Loogie! Can’t be accurate without knowledge, after all.” He said, leaning forward in his seat, resting his chin in the palms of his hands. Well, that was not a revelation Logan was expecting to have this evening. Out of the twins, he did not expect Roman to attempt accuracy, but he certainly was _not_ expecting Remus to openly admit he aimed for accurate representation in his… art.

“W-Well… Anyway, what I actually meant was humans as a species are insignificant.” Remus tilted his head, uncharacteristically quiet, waiting for Logan to elaborate. “The human race has only been around for about three hundred, thousand years, out of a near fourteen billion that the universe has existed. We are dust. Doomed to die out just as the dinosaurs before us and who knows what else.”

“What does this have to do with ants?”

“Insignificance!” Logan’s voice rose against his wishes, feeling rather sheepish when he heard a muffled ‘shut up’ from upstairs. “Insignificance. At the end of it all, we can’t promise that Thomas will do anything memorable. Just as you questioned whether he will ever have a legacy, I can’t determine that Thomas will ever be remembered or make an impact. In the end, he will go through the same cycle that all humans do: breathe, eat, defecate, sleep and repeat until he eventually dies and us along with him.”

“Hm… I see what you’re saying…” Remus hummed, pouting his lips in a way that tilted his moustache ever so slightly. A thoughtful look on Remus’ face was a strange appearance to behold. “And I disagree.”

“What? You just said so yourself, ‘you can’t be accurate without knowledge’. So, if you are aware of all of this, how can you say that this is incorrect? We both know it isn’t. At the end of it all, if there is a higher deity, which I sincerely doubt, he will get judged and then some day, trillions of years down the line, the universe will cease to be.”

“Yep!”

“Are you just ignoring me or are you truly ignorant to what that means?”

“Nah, just don’t see the point of worrying your pretty little head off.” He leaned back in the couch cushions, head held high, staring Logan down like the personification of Logic had once done to him. “After all, if we are so insignificant, what is the point of worrying? We can do anything we set our minds to!”

“How optimistic.”

“How practical, I think you mean.” Logan furrowed his brow. Was this naked idiot really trying to argue against him? “After all, that’s life! An experience that we lucky few get to live, and guess what? If it wasn’t for the lucky few before us, where would we be now?”

Logan cocked a brow, not quite catching onto the Duke’s reasoning.

“Nikola Tesla was a brilliant nutcase that played with electricity, giving us the stepping stones to modern inventions that all require electricity! But…” He wagged a finger in Logan’s direction, tutting. “Without him, who’s to say no one else down the line wouldn’t have discovered it? Without Pythagoras, we might not have Pythagoras theorem, we might instead have the Florian theorem or we might not have anything!”

“You’re just ruining your point.”

“Let me finish.” Remus scooted himself across the couch cushions until he was sitting right beside Logan, the Logical side grimacing. He would have to wash those cushions come tomorrow. "Yes, anyone could have done it or no one at all, but guess what? _They_ did it!”

What?

“I don’t-”

“ _We_ , the human race, any one of them, can put their minds to it and do something new! Something exciting! Tesla, Percy Julian, Einstein, Marie Curie, Pythagoras, Aristotle… _They_ were the ones that discovered all of those amazing things. That invented all of those awesome contraptions!”

“But-”

“Let me go further! If it wasn’t for Jordan Peele, we wouldn’t have ‘ _Get Out_ ’! If it wasn’t for Francisco Goya, we wouldn’t have that awesome painting! You know the one, um… The one where big boy Cronus is eating his son…?”

“I think you mean ‘Saturn’.”

“Yep! That’s the one! And it’s a fucking masterpiece! All creepy and bloody… God, he makes that arm look so fucking tasty.” Logan tried to ignore the sight of Remus’ tongue sliding over his teeth and lips. But still…

“I… I will concede…” Remus leaned forward, grinning down at Logan. “T-That you have a point.”

“And Thomas the fucking dankest engine that there ever has been? What has he done?”

“Um… I don’t-”

“He’s entertained millions with his stupid little Vines!” Logan shrugged. “He’s been releasing his own songs and covers of other awesome bops on Youtube and Spotify! Hell, he’s let us make our own playlists!” Logan cringed, recalling some of the rather… unusual and grating pieces Remus had handpicked. “He’s been in several musicals and theatrical productions, posing and bounding about for those asshole critics and doing bloody amazing!”

“I guess…”

“And! And he has been introducing us to the world! That’s a fucking first!”

“Well, I mean, the Disney Pixar film _Inside Out_ did it first.”

“They just did emotions. We’re the fucking mechanics, Logie Awards! We’re more than just a kid flic, no matter how heart wrenching it was.” Was it just an illusion of some kind, or did he actually see the Duke nearly shed a tear? “Fucking Hell, Bing-Bong. How dare you be so selfless… You were supposed to just rocket your fat-ass out of there and leave that yellow bitch behind! Sadness deserved better!”

…

They were getting off topic now.

“Anyway! We are now known to the world and that is all thanks to Thomathy! Isn’t that a fucking achievement?!”

“I mean…” Logan thought it over. His mind was in a whirl. After all, Remus wasn’t wrong. People knew about them. Thomas had achieved more than the average person. He had done far more than was expected of him in his youth. He had done so much and Logan… Logan felt his chest swell with pride.

The heat of Remus’ presence was fading, Logan looking up to then blush a bright red as he caught the _almost_ amusing sight of the Duke attempting to shuffle his way back under the lounge cushions. He stood up, holding the pillow up and out of the way, the Dark Side grinning up at him as he scooted himself under all the pillows. Before Logan replaced the final one over Remus’ head and shoulders, he took a moment to gather his words.

“T-… Thank you, Remus. I didn’t… I didn’t know how much I needed that.”

“Eh, not a problem! You better go to bed. You look like you’re going to pass out and you don’t want to know what I’ll do with your unconscious body if you do.” Logan obliged, hurriedly and roughly slamming the pillow down and over Remus’ face, forcing the embarrassed flush to his cheeks to cool down.

He returned to his room, laying down, mind calm and focussed on only one thing; his exhaustion clawing at his eyes and audibly pleading him to sleep. Or that could just be Remus downstairs, demanding he sleep. Either way, Logan obliged, even allowing himself an extra hour of blissful calm before the alarm call of Roman’s horrified shriek reverberated up the stairs. Today was going to be a good day.

~X~

#3 (A HISTORY, FORGOTTEN)

The Imagination was laid out before him; a vast landscape with a variety of unique worlds to explore. Patton had never realised just what Roman had meant when he said that the Imagination was enormous. He had been expecting a room perhaps a little larger than a gymnasium at most, but instead, there was a horizon, and a wide range of places to explore.

He had been so excited when Roman had invited him to explore, but since he had been called away by his villagers to plan an upcoming festival for Christmas, Patton had been left to wander the streets. This was just one of Roman’s many medieval-inspired towns; small with crooked stone lining the roads, a large well at its centre and a church up a winding hill path. The people were bright, with wide eyes and large smiles that would politely offer a flower or baked bread if they weren’t busy with decorating.

The town was an explosion of red and white, ribbons connecting building rooftops and fir trees growing on every street corner. It was beautiful, truly. Patton just wished he could spend his time fawning over the festive spirit _with_ Roman. Without him, the townsfolk seemed to enter into a different setting, still participating in conversations with each other and seeking out Roman like the celebrity he seemed to be. The further away Patton had walked, the more the townsfolk came to ignore him and go about their days like he was an invisible entity.

He didn’t mean to walk so far, but he had been distracted. He felt like a Disney princess when the first white bunny came up to sniff at his hand. Then another, this time a dark brown. A fawn and its mother leapt through the tall grass outside of the village limits, and Patton was head over heels. He had always loved animals (spiders being the exception), but to have them not be so skittish was a dream come true. He looked back at the village behind him, hearing the commotion faintly from within, but turned his baby blue eyes back over the sight before him.

Roman didn’t have to worry. He could surely just wander and explore a little more without the other getting distracted from his duties. He knew it wasn’t a particularly smart idea to walk off, but he wasn’t a child. He knew what to look for, and besides, he wouldn’t go far. With one last, hesitant glance over his shoulder, Patton stepped off the road and bounded after the deer, the bunnies hot on his heels.

They led him deep into a nearby forest, filled with wild oak trees and emerald grass, lines of white and red mushrooms and the faint trickle of a natural spring somewhere deep in the woods. Birds had come to join him as he ran; sparrows, finches and bluebirds, each singing their little tunes. It was harmonic and joyous. He felt like he could fly. His cardigan’s sleeves flew into his face a couple of times, but it only helped to stir his laughter. He felt like a kid all over again.

He didn’t know how far he had gone, but by the time he tripped over a high root, he could feel a deep-seated burn in his muscles. The ache from his fall caused him to shake his head, trying to get those little birds to stop twittering so loud in his ear. He sat up in the dirt, looking all about, noting how the birds had fluttered away as quickly as they had joined him. There was no sight of the deer and its baby, and the rabbits, it seemed, had scampered off or had been left behind in Patton’s rush to explore.

He sat at the base of a gnarled tree, looking up to see how the leaves and branches all came together to make an emerald roof above his head. Faint, golden glimmers of the setting sun shone down onto him, the forest around him growing darker, but no less beautiful as the sun sank in the sky.

_‘Over here~’_

Patton’s ears picked up on the sound. It was almost a click in his paternal instincts. A child’s voice, faint and distant spoke to him, from somewhere in the surrounding foliage.

“Hello?” He called, standing up and glancing about, hoping to see someone. Instead, he saw nothing. The forest was quiet; no birds, no footsteps, and no wind. It was a little strange, but Patton was much too focussed on finding the owner of that voice.

_‘Hello~’_

There it was again. Patton glanced back over his shoulder, the sound of childish laughter ringing in his ears. He released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, watching as there was a flash of a small figure darting between the trees behind him. He turned, jogging over with a smile on his face, chuckling as he tried to stealthily approach the tree. He whipped around the corner.

“Gotcha-!” Only, he didn’t. No one was there. But… He was certain he had seen them dart over that way…

_‘I’m over here~’_

Patton’s eyes turned up, noting the bright eyes peeking around the side of a tree, a mischievous grin on the chubby face. Those little hands held on tightly to its bark, the child’s laughter sounding again. How did Patton know this little one? He seemed so familiar.

That mop of dark hair darted behind the tree once more, Patton catching the wisp of silver strands in the fringe before the head disappeared. He felt his heart leap into his throat. No way… It couldn’t be… He darted forward, once more rounding the tree but greeted with only a patch of grass and dirt. More laughter.

_‘Silly-Billy, Papa-Patton~’_

_‘I have run away again~’_

He knew these words. He hadn’t heard them in years. Not since... He spotted the child running away through ferns and bramble bushes, avoiding the thorns and every root with such adventurous grace. There was laughter again, wild and familiar.

_‘I want to play some tricks and run~’_

_‘Away from home and have some fun~’_

This nursery rhyme was something Patton had not heard in at least two decades. Though it was something to help find the tot when he and Roman were still young, now it felt so much more haunting. He was running at full speed after the child, noticing he was closing the distance.

“Remus?!”

_‘In the forest, I do not worry~’_

_‘Cause Papa-Patton will be in a hurry~’_

_‘To catch me and take me home~’_

_‘Into danger I will not roam~’_

He reached out with one hand, watching how his hand was almost at Remus’ shoulder. He almost had him. But as his hand stretched and made to halt the running figure, he watched as his fingers fell through, Patton tripping forward and into the dirt. He looked up, in time to see the child vanish like a puff of smoke. Remus…

_‘When I trip and fall, he’ll be there to catch me~’_

_‘Or the monsters will come, and away they’ll take me~’_

Patton felt tears rolling down his face, helping to glue dirt to his cheeks. His glasses were gone, having fallen free from the crook of his nose. His hands searched the ground, feeling nothing but sharp rocks and dead grass. That… That was not what Roman’s forest was like.

There was the crunch of heavy footsteps, larger than anything Patton had been chasing. He felt his chest rise and fall, attempting to take in deep breaths and calm down. He was beginning to panic. He turned around so he was on his back, eyes wide. The world around him was dark. He would barely be able to see a few feet in front of him if he wasn’t blind already. However, he did see movement. Something dark shuffled closer; Patton could hear heavy breaths and bellows of a giant creature as it moved closer.

Then came the smell. Something decaying and rotten washed over him with the hot breath of the animal. It was putrid. Sickening. What was it?! Patton attempted to scramble back, but one large paw pressed him into the dirt, sharp claws tearing his shirt but not yet flaying his skin. He couldn’t breathe.

“Help…”

The thing just huffed in response, turning its apparently massive head back and forth as if to eye him closer. To understand what he was. Patton could feel the saliva dripping down onto his cheek, burning hot to the touch and just emphasizing the smell of something deceased.

“Help.”

It tilted its head. Then, Patton felt his heart nearly stop, watching with a blurred mix of colour as the beast opened its jaws, a red tongue lashing out to lick up his face. Patton then felt another tongue, and then a third. He felt sick. He breathed again.

“ _HELP!_ ”

“Heel!” Patton heard a familiar voice command, the creature releasing Patton from beneath its weight and backing up. Patton scrambled away, feeling for his glasses in desperation. He heard footsteps, nothing like the beast that had nearly eaten him, and then felt someone’s fingers gently place something over his nose and eyes. He could see!

“Hey, little grey, cardigan hood~.” Now that was a purr that Patton recognised. From where he lay, he lifted his gaze from the black, calf high boots, up the green and black striped pants to the over the top sash and suit that Duke wore. The man was smiling down at him, offering him a hand up. Patton graciously took it, backing hurriedly away and behind Remus as the beast came closer.

“Cerberus, heel.” It did so. Now that Patton had his glasses, he could see that it was a three headed dog, with fur as dark as Remus’ own fashion sense, moss and vines threaded through fur, with a tail more akin to a donkey’s that was lashing about excitedly. It had taken a seat at Remus’ command, the Side moving over and wrapping his hands around the middle head’s snout, rubbing the muzzle affectionately. “It’s okay, Cerby~. Pattoncake was just a little scared.” He turned around to look back at Patton, grey eyes wide and wild.

“You should give him a pet, Patty.”

“N-No, thank you. He’s… Um…”

“Oh, Cerby was just wondering who you were.” The left head opened its mouth as if to yawn, but then a tongue whipped out, far longer than Patton had ever seen, taking the opportunity to roughly lap up the side of his cheek again. Remus guffawed, grinning at Patton. “He likes you.”

Patton bit his lip, looking up at the dog’s three heads, all of them stooped down so Remus could share his affection between them. Even at this position, the dog was about eight feet tall. He nervously stepped closer, raising a shaking hand up to the left head, Remus turning his attentions to the right most head. The panting beast tilted its skull one way, offering Patton an open space to scratch and rub. He took it with relief.

He felt himself beginning to relax, and though he had been disgusted and terrified (and still was), watching this great, lumbering creature kick its leg at his chin scratches had him giggling with glee.

“So, what are you doing here? I don’t often get visitors.”

“Visitors?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you passed onto my territory about an hour ago.”

“Oh…” He had the decency to look as embarrassed as he sounded. “I didn’t realise.”

“Nah, that’s okay. You just got to be careful. I love all my creations, but not all of them love you. Trust me. You’re lucky you didn’t run into Grendel, or my zombies. Those undead bitches could run you down faster than a machine gun could mow you down.” He grinned, though it slipped at the sight of Patton’s grimace.

“W-Well, I just was following what sounded like a child.” He didn’t feel it necessary to give all the details. “They were calling out to me, and I thought they looked familiar. They disappeared when I got close enough though.”

“Oh, that.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Those are just wisps.”

“Wisps?”

“You know… Will-O-Wisps?”

“I heard you, but I thought they carried lanterns or fire or something…”

“Oh, they do. But sometimes they employ other tricks. Sometimes, their little lamps are not enough, so they use other methods.”

“So, that child…”

“Is dead. Whatever you saw, that child is dead.”

Patton felt his heart go ice cold, constricting in his chest at the thought. No… That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. After all, Remus was standing before him right now. Wasn’t he?

“And what if I know for a fact that the child is alive?”

Remus gave him a crooked look, confused as to why the other seemed to press this issue. He whistled up at Cerberus who took to standing, Remus moving around to hoist himself up onto the back of his mighty… hound. He held a hand out, offering Patton a comforting look. Well, that was something Patton hadn’t seen in years.

“Then you must be wrong.” He hoisted Patton up and onto Cerberus’ back with ease, and gave a light kick to Cerberus’ ribs so that the three headed dog started off charging into the trees. Patton yelped, clinging on for dear life whilst Remus’ maniacal laughter sounded through the air.

They reached the border in no time at all, Cerberus bounding to a final stop, crouching low to allow Patton to slip onto his feet. Having seen the transition from Remus’ land to Roman’s, it was a wonder how Patton didn’t notice the difference the first time. Where the dark forest with thorny brambles ended, the lush meadows began. Patton could see the sky now, dark, but filled with stars.

“Thanks Remus.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously.” His looked turned dark, leaning forward from where he sat to glare down at Morality. “Don’t fucking mention this to anyone.” Patton felt a heavy stone in his throat, making it hard to swallow. His worries were washed away with Remus’ eyes glinting and his smile returning.

“You know. Don’t need my reputation as a ‘bad guy’ going down the fucking toilet. Otherwise, I’ll have no excuse to invade Roman.” He laughed aloud, Patton joining him. It had been so long since Patton had spent any real time with Remus, and now, even with his potty-mouth and rather dark sense of… well, anything… Patton could still see the faintest traces of the boy he raised.

The boy he left behind.

“Remus, I know you said otherwise, but I know what I saw…” The Duke’s head tilted, curious as to where Patton was going with his words. “That wisp… It showed me a child that I know is alive and well. I’ve seen him.”

“You’re wro-”

“I’m not. Remus… Who I saw was-”

“Patton!” Roman’s voice, clear as crystal, cut through their conversation, Patton peering back over his shoulder. Roman approached on his white steed, looking rather frazzled but no less relieved. “I was wondering where you had been. I had half the kingdom searching for you.”

“Ro-Bro!” Roman shot a glare Remus’ way, turning his attention back to Patton and offering him a hand to climb atop the horse’s back.

“Remus.”

“Is that all you have to say, cityscape?” Roman’s glare turned back up to Remus. There was tension in the air, Patton could feel heat from both of their looks; one angered and the other taunting.

“Stay on your side.”

“Ah, well, of course. Good to know you are just as straight to the point as ever.” That didn’t sound like Roman. “Welp, this was fun, Moron-ality.” That stung a bit. Looking over at Remus, his wide baby-blue eyes connected with Remus’ glaring grey eyes. He could see the flecks of emerald within flashing, but it was not with malice. “Try not to get lost again.”

With a gentle kick to Cerberus’ ribs, the hound picked up its haunches, all six dark eyes wide in much the same way of a pleading puppy. With a whine from Cerberus and a pet down each of his dark necks, the two of them disappeared back into the woods. Roman, in turn, pulled his horse around gently, and started at a slow trot back towards his castle, and inevitably his bedroom door.

“Roman?”

“Yes, Patton?”

“What can you tell me about wisps?”

“Why?”

“Please…”

Roman took a moment, glancing back at Patton with confusion, but no frustration. He sighed softly, taking a moment to think.

“They’re spirits. Ones that lead travellers off the path so they may too be lost forever and become one of them.”

“So, they’re… really dead?”

“Well… Yes and no. Some are exactly that. Poor, unfortunate souls passing through that became malevolent spirits. But, there are some that are a little… different.”

“How?”

“One’s physical form does not technically have to… pass. Sometimes, all that is needed is the trauma of being lost or left behind. It is like an astral projection as Logan called it-…” Patton had stopped listening, eyes brimming with tears. He shed them quietly, hiding his shame by nuzzling his face into Roman’s back.

Oh Remus…

He never meant to leave.

~X~

#4 (DON’T STOP ME NOW)

After everything they had done. After all of this. Why now? What had changed? He just didn’t understand. Why would they do this to him? He trusted them. Was it misplaced? Had he done something foolish by trusting them to have their best interests at heart? Surely those two villains had done enough, poisoning their minds against him. That was why he was in here and everyone else was downstairs. Those… _creatures_ had ruined everything.

Roman’s room had never been in such a state. He couldn’t bear to look at the destruction he had caused. The walls, with their golden trim, had been stained a bright and sick wash of colour. The rainbow of paints were beautiful to start, but then they had started leaking down the wall, mixing together in an amalgamation of browns, sick greens and greys. His mirrors were shattered, arcs of glass lining the floors like a minefield of hideous broken smiles and crooked glares.

His bed was a mess, the swan feather pillows torn to shreds and the draperies that normally hid his sleeping form from sight were ripped off and shredded across the glass shards. His room was a disaster zone of canvases, broken pencils and crushed roses. It would have made quite the dramatic sight, and he had no doubt that if Logan were to see what he had done, he would be chastised for his childish behaviour. Patton would probably be on the brink of breaking down and Virgil would probably just roll his eyes at Roman’s anguish.

Those two, however… He grit his teeth, grinding down to prevent himself from letting a sound undignified of a prince. He wanted to roar, take his sword out and charge down the stairs. Strike out, clash weapons and then turn up victorious to shouts of his fellow Sides praising him for saving them from Deceit’s lies and Remus’ threats.

There was a knock at his door. He bit back the urge to hiss at the one disrupting his thoughts, and felt his voice come through without his permission.

“Leave.”

There was silence from the doorway. No one tried to turn the knob, but he couldn’t hear anyone make the walk of shame back down the corridor. Good for them. There wasn’t anything to entertain them here. Roman was done entertaining. He was done with this and how everyone seemed to turn against him.

He finally heard whomever was outside stepping away. It seemed slow, hesitant, but Roman cared little for them and their feelings. He had enough of being selfless. His opinions were shot down continuously, and with Logan and Patton constantly giving their input, Thomas seemed unable to put another’s words on the same pedestal. He held those two in such high regards that there never seemed much point in arguing.

Another series of knocks. He hadn’t noticed the Side’s return, but just felt a low growl sound deep within his chest when he opened his mouth to answer. He shut himself down, not wanting to give the others more of a reason to ignore him. He wasn’t his brother. He wasn’t an _animal_.

There was an explosion of sound, Roman shocked to his feet as his door caved in with a powerful swing of an all too familiar Morningstar. Splinters of wood cascaded across the room, Roman’s hand whipping to his left hip and pulling his katana free from its place. Through the hole where his door once stood, the familiar form of _him_ entered, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle, eyes wide and crazed, bearing a toothy grin. He reminded Roman of a wolf or shark with how he appeared; a predator hunting.

“Oh, brother~!” Remus lunged forward, swinging his weapon high. Roman had little time to dodge, just managing to dart to the side. The Morningstar’s head came down where Roman had been standing, leaving a crater in his bedroom floor. He whipped his head around, eyes flashing dangerously as he darted ahead, keeping up with Roman’s every move. From the door, Roman could hear Patton’s cries of horror.

He brought his sword up, in time to prevent the Morningstar from connecting to his jaw. It would have broken it, probably his entire neck if he hadn’t been fast enough. Their weapons clashed, a glint of silver and sparks, Roman holding his brother back with what strength that remained. After the destruction of his room by his own hand, he was exhausted. And it showed. Remus’ strength was pressing down on Roman’s, his katana screeching.

“REMUS! Get a hold of yourself!”

“No.” Remus pushed him back, sending Roman onto the mattress, the prince having to scramble back to avoid a blow to the family jewels. “Nein.” Another swing down in the same location, caving the bed in with a crunch. “Non.” He swung just over Roman’s head. It would have been like one of those dramatic fight scenes where a blade would just barely cut his hair. It was too close for comfort. “Nyet.” His brother had gotten slower in their time apart, it seemed.

“What has gotten into you?!” He dodged back, Remus tackling him across the bed, pinning him to the floor with his weight. He lifted his Morningstar high, but with a strong hit of the katana’s hilt, Remus lowered his weapon, one hand clutching his ribs. Roman kicked him off, scrambling back over glass and paint, wincing as the shrapnel sliced the skin of his hands.

“Me? What has gotten into you?!” He recovered quickly, following Roman quickly across the bedroom. Roman had stood and was immediately kicked back into the vanity, feeling the wind rush out of his lungs. Remus stepped forth, arm arcing high above his head, bringing it down just as Roman crouched. What was left of the mirror was obliterated.

“Remus! Stop this!” Logan’s voice, unusually loud and panicked, carried over the sounds of their battle.

“That’s enough! You’re hurting him!” Patton cried, Virgil keeping him from running into the room to get between them.

“I want to.” Their weapons clashed again, Roman pressing back against his brother. All of his swinging and wild motions had caused him exhaustion. He was weakening. “I want to hurt him.”

Roman could recall how often the two of them had practised their fighting skills when they were young. Just as they were now, they were enemies; Roman constantly being invaded by Remus who just sang about how much he wanted to ‘play’. Well, it became almost a weekly practise. They exchanged blows and Remus would return to his respective side of the imagination. Remus had always lost every battle. Every fight Roman would be the victor. It would be no different now. They played their roles well as children, and it certainly wouldn’t change now.

There was an ear-splitting shriek of steel and a loud crack. Roman and Remus shared a look of shock, watching how half of Roman’s blade crumbled under the pressure. It flew out of sight beneath the bed, Roman letting out a pained wretch as the shaft of the Morningstar slammed down over his throat. He couldn’t breathe. His arms flung out wildly, attempting to push back against Remus’ grip. Remus, despite his efforts against him, still seemed just as stunned by the turn of events.

“Remus, enough!” The words of that snake cut through Patton’s cries and Roman and Remus’ heavy breathing. Remus turned his head ever so slightly, the smile beginning to etch its way back onto his face. It was slow. Malicious.

“Ani.”

“Remus…”

“Ochi.”

“Remus, this has gone far enough!”

“NO, IT HASN’T!” With a forceful push onto Roman’s throat, cutting off his oxygen supply completely for a brief moment, Remus took to standing. He stalked towards Deceit, arm swinging lazily. Roman watched with wide eyes as the human half of Janus’ face morphed from one of anger to horror. Deceit had never been afraid of Remus.

“It has never been enough.” Remus said, Roman forcing himself to turn over and pick himself up. He was coughing. Trying to regain his thoughts through his swimming vision. He saw a glint beneath his bed. Something sharp.

“Remus, please…”

“It is not enough! I need… I need more…” Remus glanced back at Roman, and for a moment Roman feared Remus was aware of what he was doing. For a moment, Remus’ eyes followed his brother’s arm, up and under the bed, with his hand out of sight. He turned his attention back to Deceit.

He didn’t notice.

“I want him gone. I want him dead!” He raised his Morningstar, Deceit backing up under that frightful gaze. “He stifles me! He keeps me locked away!” Roman could make out how Deceit’s cape opened further, all of his hidden hands peeking out from under the cloak, ready to fend off his friend. “I am DONE!”

Roman lunged forward, his hand having gripped tightly around the broken blade, feeling the edge cut deep into his fist. He aimed downward, watching as the point enter into Remus’ calf, slicing down through his pants and flesh. Blood spurted free, blinding Roman as it entered his eyes. A roar erupted from deep within his brother’s chest, the Morningstar falling to the floor behind him. Deceit ran forward, attempting to grab Remus and prevent his descent. Instead, Remus slapped his hands away as he collapsed.

Roman pulled himself up from where he was on the floor, wiping his face free of blood. Remus let out a sound similar to a whine, hands trying to staunch the bleeding. Roman quickly pushed the Morningstar away and out of Remus’ now reaching hand. A look of fury passed over Remus’ tired features.

“You’re done, Remus.”

“I-…” Remus attempted to stand, immediately falling back into his crouched position, his teeth grit tight. He turned his dark eyes up at Roman, the prince noting how he could see the faintest traces of tears in the other’s eyes. Never had Roman seen that before. Every time Remus and he had fought, it didn’t matter the injuries, Remus never cried. He had never cried from pain before. “I’m not done.”

“Leave.” Roman stared him down, the Duke growling between bared teeth, attempting to stand once more. It was a pitiful sight. “It’s over. You’ve lost. Again.”

Roman took a breath when he watched Remus sink into the floor, his body becoming near transparent to allow for Remus to return to his hovel. Their eyes never parted, Roman’s warm brown eyes, filled with pity and a rage slowly simmering down, meeting eyes filled with fury, upset, embarrassment and… what was that?

“Roman.”

“Quiet.” He turned back to the reptilian side, Deceit holding his head high despite Roman’s tone. “I… Thank you, Dec-… Janus.” A look of confusion through Deceit’s features, Roman biting back the urge to say something demeaning. “You really helped me there.”

“That’s my job.”

“I mean it. Thank you.”

Patton, Logan and Virgil entered, each of them beginning to fuss and express their concerns as to what had just occurred. Remus was unpredictable but never had he lashed out in such a way before. Patton immediately started worry about Roman’s throat and the bruising that was beginning to form. Logan headed downstairs and out of sight to collect the first aid kit, not wanting Roman to receive an infection from the glass. Virgil offered to help clear his room of the debris whilst Janus sunk out of sight. As he disappeared in much the same fashion as Remus, he told them he would speak to Remus, and determine what had set him off.

Even now as the Light Sides continued their ministrations and fussing, Roman’s thoughts played back their fight and how they played their roles. How Remus had seemed so slow compared to his usual manic behaviour. How he could have killed Roman then and there but turned his attention to Deceit. The unshed tears in his eyes and the look he gave Roman as he sunk out and back to the Dark.

He knew that look. It was the same look Patton gave Virgil when he agreed to talk about his problems. It was the same look Logan had when Thomas came to the necessary conclusion. It was the same look Virgil had when Logan had complimented his train of thought. It was the same look that Janus had when the Sides had agreed to accept him into the Light. But it couldn’t be…

In those last moments before Remus had sunk out… The villain had given the hero a look of pride.

Remus was proud of him…

~X~

#5 (EVERYBODY SINS)

Deceit had sunk back down into the Dark Side corridor, looking back and forth down the hall. Where there was once six doors, including the one that opened into the Subconscious, now there was only four. The one that opened to the shared bathroom was open, with a long trail of blood leading into it. There was the sound of running water in a porcelain tub, Janus taking a moment to steel himself for what he was about to see.

He had never been scared of Remus before. When he had found him as a child wandering about in the Imagination, he had been surprised. He had heard about Romulus’ split, but he didn’t expect the divide to revert the brothers into children. Still, he had offered his hand and led the crying and screaming child back into the Dark. Remus had grown quickly to accommodate Thomas’ age, and during this time, Remus mind went manic. Thousands of thoughts ran through his head, all of them building up into a painful migraine that couldn’t be relieved. Even then, Janus had never been scared of him or his episodes.

He had been so caught up in the moment, the adrenaline pounding through his head and drums beating loudly in his ears, he couldn’t decipher lies from truth. How Remus had shouted and roared about his desires to kill and maim. To get out of the cage he was trapped within. Now that Deceit had the time to calm down, his mind caught onto the lies.

“Remus?” He stepped into the bathroom after Remus, looking down as the other lay deep in the water, his left leg propped up on the rim of the tub. The cut was deep, the water already a sickly colour. He held a thin line of thread and needle in his fingers, paying Janus no mind when he entered. He grimaced as the needle was pushed through skin and muscle, piercing it and then pulling the thread through it with a wince. Remus was biting down hard on the leather of his belt, eyes fixed and concentrated.

Janus stooped low, picking up the Duke’s uniform and tossing it away in the hamper, before moving and taking an uncomfortable seat on the tile. For a moment, Remus’ eyes looked up at him but they seemed tired. Ashamed.

“Do you _not_ need help?”

Remus took a moment, eyes turned down to the water. He seemed to think on it for a moment before nodding his head bashfully. Janus took the needle from him, Remus laying back and trying to relax his body, the tension in his calf loosening. It was a sickening sight, as if Remus’ calf was a raw piece of pork, sliced open with a meat cleaver. The muscle hung off the bone. Sewing it together would take some time, as would the healing process. He got to work.

Every stitch was slow and calculated. He needed to be sure he did it right lest the wound fall apart and open again. Every prick of the needle caused Remus to wince, the grinding of his teeth became especially prominent however when Janus had to pull the muscle together. Even though they were metaphysical human beings, with the power to conjure and create within the Mindscape, injuries still caused them a lot of pain and strife. And if left untreated… Janus tried not to think about the last time he was sitting on the rim of the bathtub, watching as someone bled out in the water.

It was a long and excruciating process, the water now cold from how long the two of them sat there. Remus appeared paler than usual. It was not surprising, considering how it seemed he had all but stained the bathwater red. Janus stood, beginning to rummage his way through the drawers until he found some bandages. Since _that_ time, he always kept them in there, and since Remus’ exploits often left him bleeding and bruised, it meant they would be used. Just as they were now. The belt was discarded onto the floor, Janus clearing his throat as he began to wrap up the wound.

“Remus…”

No answer.

“What happened up there?”

Remus let his head loll lazily to one side, exhausted features and his dark eyes half-lidded were enough to tell Janus that this was a conversation best saved for later. But he couldn’t let this get swept under the rug like so many things before. This was not something they should be quiet about.

“ _Don’t_ tell me.”

“Are you still accepted?”

Janus furrowed his brow in confusion, watching as Remus’ lips stretched to accommodate a tired smile.

“Yes. Just as you are.”

“No.”

“W-What do you mean ‘no’? Just because of what happened, they’re not going to-”

“I’m not going up there.” He pulled himself up to sit higher, and then into a standing position. Almost immediately Janus was there to catch him as he half tumbled out of the tub and into Deceit’s six waiting arms. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Well, after that-”

“I don’t just mean that. Everything… Everything I have done… I don’t-” Remus’ breath caught in his throat, and Janus was shocked to feel Remus’ shoulders wrack with sobs. He collapsed completely in Janus’ arms, the Side having to hold up both their weight, and beginning to drag Remus out the door and down the long corridor towards his room.

They passed by the door to the Subconscious. The dark and rotting wood, the sound of whipping wind and crashing waves from within causing them to quick their pace. They passed by _his_ door, leaving it far behind them, the fiery, orange door glaring at them in the dark. The words ‘KEEP OUT’ were carved sharply and sloppily into the wood, something that they all kept in mind. Even Remus never bothered _him_.

They finally reached Remus’ room, the door painted a deep green, chipped and with all kinds of scars and stains across it. Not all of them were Remus’ work. They entered the room beyond, dark and with a mess of papers strewn across the carpet. He helped Remus to the side of his bed, a nest of pillows and blankets, helping him reach the foot of the mattress and then using all six hands to clear it of the many pillows and excess blankets. Remus didn’t need his movement impaired.

He laid him down, tucking his shivering body under the blankets. As he pulled his hands away, for a moment, he could see the tear tracks on Remus’ chubby cheeks, how his small hands clutched at the blankets, terrified in his new home. He shook that thought free when the real, adult Remus turned over in the sheets, offering him a thankful smile.

“Why _didn’t_ you do it?”

“Because… Dee-Dee-…”

“Don’t you-!” He caught himself from shouting as Remus’ smile dropped. “Please, Remus… Be serious. Just answer me this: Why?” The Side bit his lip, trying to well up the courage to answer.

“Because Dee-… Janus… I knew his thoughts…”

“And?”

“He was angry. Scared… And he felt… Unwanted. He felt like he had no place. He had nowhere to go. I… I know how that feels.”

“So-?”

“So, I gave him what he needed. I played my part, and I think I did a pretty good job.” He tried to sit up, to produce a grin on his face, but it morphed into a wince. “And you are definitely accepted now, since they saw what you did, standing up to me, and…”

“You didn’t need to do that, Remus!” He regretted raising his voice, at how Remus had sunk deep into the blankets, looking rather sheepish and embarrassed. He sighed, taking a moment to calm down. Remus was intelligent, but the man had always had a round-about way of thinking. It wasn’t a perfect train of thought that went from destination to destination. It was more like a puppy or child’s; rushing from topic to topic, from idea to idea, until something finally caught on.

His methods had never been perfect. He had always been a little twisted, but that is what happened when you split your necessary mechanics into an overly complicated machine. Without the Ego to boost him, and without the thoughts of love and care, all that left Remus with were the thoughts no one wanted. Imagery of gross wounds and terrified souls, the feeling of fear and hatred that stemmed deep within, and the brutal honesty of this world. The reality of it all meant that Remus had no choice but to shoulder the heavy burden of all of Thomas’ unwanted thoughts and fears. Virgil was more than Fear and Anxiety, but Remus was the sum of his unfortunate parts.

“Remus.” He got the other to raise his gaze up to meet his again, feeling his heart constrict at the sight. Despite his wounds, the Duke would always bounce back faster than any other Side. His morbid curiosity and playful habits caused him to be a non-stop machine of excitement and manic glee, but now… This was wrong.

“What you did was a truly noble thing.” Remus’ eyes lit up. “I’m… I’m proud of you. Everything you have _never_ done.” Remus mouth twisted into a grin, the look one much more suited to his face, but even now it looked strange. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Janus.”

“No! It is not nothing.” He moved to sit on the bed beside him. Remus sat up and shifted, allowing Janus space to sit beside him. A pair of hands wrapped around Remus’ shoulders, a second pair lifting the blankets back up to cover Remus. Remus lifted himself up to remove his bowler hat, tossing it onto a nearby bedside table. He smirked up at Janus.

“Your hair is a fucking mess.”

“As eloquent as ever, Remus.”

“Least I don’t look like Edward Scissorhands came at me.”

“He _wasn’t_ canonically good at cutting hair.”

“Oh…” It took Remus a minute to think. “Well, then you look terrible.”

“Oh, my cold, shrivelled heart~!” Remus began laughing, a pained sound but no less delighted at Janus playing along. “You wound me with your sharp tongue!”

“I can do more than just that with my tongue~.” They both began laughing together, loud and unashamed. Truly it was a few minutes of careless delight, as if what had happened within the last two hours had never happened at all. Even now, it seemed as though Remus was the one caring for him and making him feel better, despite having a slice in his leg a little over half a foot long.

After they had calmed down, they sat together in peace, Remus resting his dark head of hair against Janus’ collar, the silver fringe tickling the deceitful Side’s chin and neck. One hand rose to pet down Remus’ hair, a sound akin to purring coming from deep within the Side’s chest in response. He was just like Virgil in how they both loved their hair being stroked and played with.

“Remus…”

“Mhm?”

“Are-… Are you going to be okay down here?” There was a shrug in Remus’ shoulders, Janus hoping for something more but rolling his eyes when he heard nothing. “Will you _not_ be alright on your own here?”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like I’m really alone. You know-”

“I know he still lives here, but you know as well as I that his presence here does little to stave off boredom.” Remus cringed at that. Yeah, he was one that was much more prone to boredom and loneliness. When Deceit had left him behind the first time so he could go and see Thomas in person, when he returned he had been barrelled over by a bored ball of energy that had wrapped him up in a hug so tight he could barely breathe.

“I’ll be fine, Janus. I just… I’m just tired. Can we just go to sleep?”

“You can. I have to go upstairs and tell the others you’re fine-”

“Don’t!” Remus had shoot up, eyes wide with what seemed to be fear and mania. “You can’t! Roman can’t know!”

“Remus.”

“No! You can’t tell them! If they find out, they’ll kick you out and back down here, and I know you have wanted to be accepted forever but they-”

“Remus.”

“- Will probably think you were working with me to do it and Roman… He needed it, Janus! We can’t take that away from him-”

“Remus!” That shut him up. “For the love of everything bad in the world will you let me finish?” The other remained silent, Janus taking the moment to conclude he was letting him speak.

“I won’t tell the others about that if you really want. I won’t take it away from Roman. But I’ll see to it that my room will return so I can stay here.”

“No.”

“Remus-”

“I won’t lie to you, Janus.” Well, he couldn’t anyway. Both of them knew that Deceit could determine any lie, especially when it was said to his face. “I don’t want you here.”

His heart broke.

“What?”

“I don’t want you here. I want you to go to the Light side. I want you to leave.” There was no string pulling on Janus’ mind. No feeling of a fly trapped in a spider’s web. No tug on his heart letting him know what he heard was false. He felt his heart clench in his chest.

“I don’t want you here with me, anymore.” It was the truth. “I don’t want you here and worrying about me anymore.” The truth. “I want you to be with the Light Sides, because that’s where you belong.”

Truth.

“You’ve finally been accepted and I don’t want to take away from that. If I have to be the villain, then so be it. If I have to be on my own, I need to learn to deal with it.” Janus felt the ice in his heart melting. “I care about you, Janus. A lot. I can’t bear the knowledge that you won’t be with them because of me. It is what you have always wanted and I refuse to take away from that.”

“Remus, I won’t leave you here.”

“Let me be selfless, just this once.” The other’s look was a serious one; it told him there was no room for arguments and as much as he wished to ignore him and wish his door to return, he couldn’t do that to Remus. The second half of creativity had always hated it when others ignored him or his ideas; how they spoke over him and altered his words. It broke Remus a little every time and Janus… Janus was not about to do that to him again.

“I’ll visit.”

“When?”

“Every day if I have to.”

“God, you’re such a sap.” But the smile on Remus’ face was genuine, the light in his eyes brighter than ever. He turned himself over so he laid back against Janus’ chest, shutting his eyes and beginning to drift away. Janus would tell the Light Sides in the morning about Remus’ condition. Now was not the time.

Now was the time to sleep.

~X~

#6 (BROKEN THINGS)

‘We’re done listening to you.’

‘You have nothing of valuable measure to contribute.’

‘P-Please, just go.’

‘Return to your little lair, brother dear.’

The words rang through his head, pounding like a school bell on crack or a fire alarm on acid, wailing like mad through his skull. His hands clasped at the side of his skull, trying to relieve the pressure with more pressure. He didn’t get how it worked, but it always did somehow. Now though… Now it didn’t do anything but cause the voices to cry louder.

He laughed at the irony of it all, feeling the hollow sound in his chest reverberate through the cavity between his ribs, where his heart should be. His apparent lack of heart had been brought up many a times, but he didn’t believe it. It might be small, insignificant or disgusting but it existed. Now though, he wasn’t so sure.

‘We’re done listening to you.’

When did you ever listen to him, Emo? The only time Virgil actually paid attention to what he had to say, he couldn’t even remember it in the fucking first place! The Subconscious ate up his memories as it was prone to do. After he had thrown him through the doorway and into the corridor, he had sunk faster than ever out of sight, tired but still fighting back the Subconscious death grip on his waist and arms. He had pulled himself free in time to see Virgil and Janus sat in the bathroom together, arms wrapped tightly around each other and in near tears.

His method had worked. Implanting that trigger in Virgil’s mind had kept his wrists clear of further scars, but after that experience, Virgil had put further distance between them. It was clear he didn’t remember Remus’ efforts, but he could still tell that part of his anguish was the fault of the big, bad villain.

‘You have nothing of valuable measure to contribute.’

That is not what he said that night when it was just the two of them. Despite the other’s obvious discomfort, something Remus still delighted in, Logan had listened to what he had to say. He had been sat on the lounge for some time, contemplating and stressing all on his own until Remus had revealed himself.

Despite his admittance and the many times the two had taken part in private, intelligent conversations, it seemed that Remus had barely left an impact. Logan was right. When Remus had first entered the picture and introduced himself to Thomas, Logan was right when he said he didn’t leave an impact. He couldn’t do fucking anything of note. Nothing to certainly be remembered.

‘P-Please, just go.’

As polite as ever, Patton. As polite as fucking ever! Remus had stood to kick over the coffee table in the Dark sitting room, growling aloud like a wild animal. ‘Oh, won’t you stay here for just moment, kiddo?’ Oh, why yes, Patton! He could stand there as long as was needed! Apparently you needed eighteen years to actually return and come to see him again. That was fine!

No… It wasn’t fucking fine! He didn’t even last eighteen minutes. He had messed up as he was prone to do. He had wandered after him, calling for Patton up until the edge of the thick, overgrown forest. He could see Patton walking away, hand-in-hand with his brother. Roman. The perfect child. Patton never held his hand. It was always too sticky, covered in mud, glue or blood. Even at a young age, Remus couldn’t help himself from sticking his fingers into what he found, including dead squirrels and birds. He always found them fascinating.

‘Return to your little lair, brother dear.’

Well, was he happy now?! He had done exactly as Roman wanted. He had returned to the Dark side common room. Was that enough? Or did he mean for him to go further? His bedroom? His side of the Imagination? Or did he mean to the bloody Subconscious? He could get rid of himself if that was what Roman wanted, but then how would that affect Thomas?

Thomas would probably be delighted. Now he would have only thoughts of butterflies, magic and rainbows, but then without Remus, he wouldn’t want to be honest. He couldn’t be. Without Remus, where was the confidence to talk about mature topics? Believe it or not, Thomathy, mental health was a fucking mature topic. Without Remus, he would be too scared to talk about it. Without him…

Without him, Thomas wouldn’t have those nightmares that kept him up at night. Scenes of murder, executions, horrible acts of violence, disgusting scenes and visions of R-Rated topics would never occur. Without him, the others could keep him in line without trouble and without fear. Without him, Roman could have the entirety of the Imagination to himself, so he could create any and all things Thomas would ever want or need.

He stormed about, tearing at the wallpaper and lounge cushions, leaving behind him a trail of ruin wherever he went. He had such pent up anger at them all. He had hid it all behind a smile and his insane laughter, and it was enough. Instead of seeing the pathetic shell that was left, they saw exactly what they expected; a Side on his home stretch. Remus turned his eyes over to the corridor. The one that once led to six rooms; the bathroom, Virgil’s room, Janus’ room, both of which had disappeared, _his_ room and Remus’ room. And the Subconscious.

His eyes held their gaze on that rotting door a little longer than he meant to, the thought louder than ever in his ears. Blood was pumping, muting him to anything other than the shrieks that echoed across his brain.

‘ _Do it_ ’

He stepped past the mess he had made, shards of glass and wood splinters crunching under his feet. He cared little for what he left behind, eyes focussed straight ahead.

‘ _Coward. Fucking do it_ ’

His hand reached out to the brass knob, twisting it in the socket and opening the door out and wide. The abyss stretched out before him; as dark and as foreboding as ever. Unlike the other times he had stared or entered the monster’s maw, now he felt something else deep within him; a heat that blossomed out through his chest that filled him from head to toe. He felt… welcome.

Tendrils, as black as the abyss they came from, licked up the sides of his legs, being gingerly soft and gentle, taking care to avoid the still healing scar on his leg. More of the Subconscious’ form reached out towards him like long, prehensile tongues, soft and wet, yet cold. One licked up the side of his cheek, one across his neck, and an innumerable amount over his arms, hands and shoulders. It offered him a gentle tug.

He accepted it.

He stepped forth, letting the many limbs guide him along towards the threshold of the door. He felt a great weight being removed from his spine and brain. He blinked away the images of Roman’s disgusted face, the sound of Patton’s crying, the frustrated looks Logan shot his way and the angered hisses from Virgil at his mere presence. The walls of the Dark side of the Mindscape crumbled ever so slightly. He breathed in a fresh gulp of air, cold and intrusive. Perfect for him.

His thoughts turned to Janus, and how the other would feel. After everything that happened, it seemed that only the deceitful side was the one to care. Not that he was surprised. It was his own fault for building himself up as the villain everybody needed. But how would he react? Would he appreciate not having to worry about him any longer? Or would he be as heartbroken as he had been when they had found Virgil?

The tugs on his torso and legs pulled tight as Remus pressed his heels into the rug. No. Not yet. He wasn’t going just yet. Those impatient tendrils lashed at him, attempting once more to rip him from his place in the corridor and pull him in, but he stood his ground. There was the sound of someone landing on the floor of the common room, and a familiar hiss from the only Side that cared to see him.

Realising their prey was immovable, those limbs pulled away, gently this time, gently licking his cheek on their return. Remus watched as the door quietly shut of its own accord, a deep rumbling coming from within. It was hungry. But it would wait.

“Remus?!” Janus appeared in the corridor beside him, catching sight of Intrusive Thoughts standing before the door, but looking pleased. Pleased to see him. Remus skipped his way over, picking Janus up in his arms and swinging him around in delight, the Side trying not to let a laugh escape his lips at Remus’ actions. He finally placed him down on his feet, grinning wide at Deceit.

“Sorry for the mess, Scales. Had to let off some steam.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have some news.”

“What?” He questioned, tilting his head to one side in confusion.

“You’ve been accepted.”

There was stunned silence that for a moment Janus held a look of concern that he may have broken Remus. He held up a hand, snapping gloved fingers in his face. Remus shook his head, blinking his wide eyes as he came back to.

“You must be lying.”

“I’m not. You’ve been accepted, and I _can’t_ prove it.” He led Remus by the hand down into the corridor. Remus counted the doors. One door to the Subconscious. One door to the shared bathroom. One door to _his_ room. They were missing one.

“H-How?”

“Thomas spoke to them _without_ a little help from yours truly. The others want you to join the Light side. You can come with me.”

“But I… I am the villain. I have to play my part.”

“No, you don’t. You only have to play yourself, Remus. The eccentric idiot with a love of all things bloody and sexual; you have a place in the Light side.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“You don’t have to. But you trust me, don’t you?”

It was a few minutes of silence whilst Remus processed this and everything else that had led up to this moment. Surely not. He couldn’t have been accepted just like that. No way. But Janus was being so sincere… But he wasn’t lying.

With a great heave, Remus had once more lifted Janus into the air, spinning him around despite the other’s yelp and struggles. Laughter bellowed out from Remus, hugging Janus tight at last, trying not to throw up from the spins. The two of them sunk out together, away from the place that held so many twisted memories, good and bad.

Behind them, the door to the Subconscious groaned and rumbled, like a stomach growling. Starved of its sustenance, the deep beast within the Mindscape waited. It would continue waiting. It could be patient.

And Remus could not say ‘no’ forever.

He knew that.

It knew that.

So hungry…

As long as it needed to…

It would wait…

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story, or it made you feel some things. Please, do leave me a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> Harcourt Holmes II


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